Campus Crisis
by dawn341
Summary: A hostage crisis erupts on campus and Blair is in the middle of it.


Campus Crisis by Dawn Cunningham.

Disclaimers:

Jim Ellison, Blair Sandburg, Simon Banks, Joel, Rafe, Brown, and Suzanne Tomacki belong to Pet Fly Productions. I'm just borrowing them and not getting paid for it. Most other characters are my own.

Do not post or publish this story anywhere else, without my express permission. Feel free to share it with others as long as the disclaimers remain intact.

I wrote this story many years ago

* SENT * SENT * SENT * SENT

Campus Crisis by Dawn Cunningham

Jim Ellison looked up from his morning newspaper and coffee as a whirlwind blew into the kitchen, rummaged through the refrigerator, then dashed back out again. He turned his attention back to his paper, only to have his reading interrupted a few moments later as the whirlwind returned. Silently, he watched his roommate move around the kitchen at a frantic pace.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Something wrong, Chief?"

Blair Sandburg glanced over his shoulder, a puzzled look on his face, as he loaded ingredients in the blender. "No. Nothing's wrong, Jim. Why?"

"You seem to be a little rushed here. Are you late for something?" Jim struggled to find a reason for the unusual pace. Normally, Blair moved a little bit slower in the morning - needing a while for his energy levels to rev up to his normal speed.

Blair glanced at the clock and a panicked look crossed his face. "I'm never going to make it on time! I've still got so much to do!" He turned away from the blender and dashed back to his room.

Giving a long-suffering sigh, Jim stood and went to the blender, covered it, and turned it on. Once it was finished, he poured the disgusting-looking contents into a glass, trying to ignore the smell of the green liquid. He carried it over to the open door of Blair's bedroom.

Jim looked inside the room and saw Blair frantically pawing through the stacks of books and papers on his desk. Some of the items were crammed into his backpack, while others were pushed aside. "Here's your algae shake," Jim said, holding out the glass.

Blair gave him an absentminded look as he closed up his backpack. "No, thanks, Jim. I already had mine this morning." He brushed past the older man and headed for the front door.

"Hold on a minute, Chief," Jim said in a stern voice, stopping the anthropologist in his tracks. "What's going on?" he asked, totally frustrated with the lack of information he was getting.

"I don't know what you mean," Blair responded.

"Listen, Chief. You've been rushing around here like a chicken with his head cut off. You started to make your breakfast and then just abandoned it. Now you claim you've already had it. Doesn't that strike you as a little bit strange - even for you?"

Blair flushed slightly. "Sorry, Jim, but you know how important today is! I guess I'm just too excited to think straight."

"Why is today so special?" Jim asked, as he racked his brain trying to remember whether Blair had dropped any hints lately. It wasn't his birthday, that much he knew.

"C'mon, Jim. I told you all about the new library, right?"

Jim nodded.

"Well, Martin Krebs donated a small part of his extensive library - as well as the funds to build the library itself. He's got books people have never heard of before. I'd give my eyeteeth to see the ones he still has stashed away," Blair said, eyes shining at the prospect. "Anyway, one of the conditions for him donating the books was to be sure there was a top-notch security system

"Okay, so what does that have to do with today?"

Blair gave an exasperated sigh. "Today *I* get a chance to look at the books. Who knows what information I might find," he explained.

"But I thought he donated them months ago?"

"He did, but the new librarian refused to let anyone see the collection until they were properly documented. And, one of the conditions Krebs made before donating the books was to be sure there was a top-of-the-line system to maintain the correct humidity to keep the books in mint condition. That means only a few people at a time are allowed into the room where they are stored. Therefore, the university decided that professors were the first on the list. Then they held a lottery for appointments for the rest of us. I've got the whole day to do as much research as I can." Blair glanced at the clock again. "I've got to go, Jim. I don't want to waste a moment of my time. It will be months before I'm allowed back in. And who knows - I might find more information about Sentinels that could help you."

"Go, go," Jim said, waving his hand indulgently now that he knew what was going on. "Have fun."

Blair was gone in a flash, and Jim listened as the young man bounded down the stairs, obviously too impatient to take the elevator. He went back into the kitchen and poured himself another cup of coffee. Taking it, he climbed the stairs to his bedroom to get ready for work.

* SENT * SENT

Jim spent the majority of the morning trying to find leads on his latest case - a local gun shop had been held up and enough weapons and ammunition had been taken to start a small war. He didn't have much to go on since the owner of the shop had been the only witness and he had been killed in the robbery. The thief had been smart enough to take the surveillance video tape as well.

After talking to all the people who worked in nearby shops, Jim headed back to the gun shop. Rafe and Brown had been trying to piece together the owner's records so they had some idea of what kind of weapons to look out for. Jim had a bad feeling that the only way they'd find out who stole the guns was to wait until they were used. It was a frightening prospect.

Jim looked over the lists the other detectives had compiled. "Good work, guys," he said, pausing as his cell phone rang. "Ellison," he barked into it.

"Jim, we have a hostage situation," the voice of Captain Simon Banks came across the line. "I want you to get to the university as soon as possible."

For a moment, Jim froze as a sinking sensation filled his stomach. "Tell me it's not the library, Simon," he almost pleaded into the phone.

"How'd you know?" Simon queried. "Oh, no... Don't tell me..."

"You've got it, Sir. Sandburg is supposed to be there," Jim confirmed. "I'm on my way. Do you want Brown and Rafe, too?"

"Yes, bring them along."

Jim quickly briefed the other two detectives as they hurried to their cars. He drove as quickly as he could to the university, saying a silent prayer for Blair's safety as he went. As he turned into the parking lot of the library, he spotted Blair's Volvo parked there. Spotting a cluster of police cars and a SWAT van, Jim pulled up next to them.

He found Simon talking to Suzanne Tomacki, the head of campus security. "What have we got?" he asked.

"Hello, Jim," Suzanne greeted him. "We have several witnesses," she pointed at a small cluster of nearby people, "who report that a heavily-armed man burst into the library and started shooting anything that moved. One of them is critically injured and just barely made it out of the building before the security system was activated."

"Do we have an identity yet?" Jim asked.

"Not yet. I've only done a brief interview with the students. I decided to wait until the police got here to continue so they wouldn't have to go through it twice."

"Smart move," Simon commended her. "What kind of security are we talking about here?" he asked as he eyed the building.

"State of the art," Suzanne informed him. "Both entrances can be locked from a master console. There's no other way in or out. There are no windows and the doors are made of unbreakable glass designed to withstand hurricane strength winds. I've tried the override codes on the security system, but they don't seem to be working."

"What if we cut the power to the building?" Jim asked. "Wouldn't that unlock the doors?"

"It would, except that the library has its own generator. They didn't want to risk any damage to the books if the power should fail."

"What about the ventilation system? Can we get tear gas in there?" the head of the SWAT team, Captain Mike Saunders, asked.

Suzanne shook her head. "I don't think so. There's an air purifying system in place to filter out any contaminants such as smoke and dust. I doubt you could get enough tear gas in the place to make it work."

"Okay, let's get a perimeter set up," Simon ordered. "Jim, Brown and Rafe, you start interviewing the witnesses. If we can't get in, he can't get out. In the meantime, I'll see what we can do to establish communications with the man."

The three detectives headed for the group of witnesses. Jim didn't get much information from the first two he talked to. They'd heard the first shots fired, but hadn't seen anything. When it grew silent, they had emerged from a study cubicle and managed to sneak out the front door, helping the wounded man they found in the lobby. As Jim turned to the next one, Brown signaled him and he moved over to join the other detective and a pretty brunette student.

"What have you got, H?" Jim asked.

"I think I may have an ID on our shooter. This is Julie Mason," Brown introduced them. "Go ahead and tell him what you saw," he coaxed.

"Well, I was, like, sitting over there on that bench, soaking in some rays when I saw Brian Walters screech into the parking lot. That's his car over there." She pointed out a red Camaro. "He got out and went around and opened the trunk and pulled something out. Next thing I know, he's looking like Rambo or something - all kinds of guns and stuff. He almost ran into the library and then I heard these popping noises. I didn't realize they were, like, gunshots until some people came out bleeding. It was gross!"

"What can you tell me about this Walters?" Jim asked.

"Not too much. He was, like, dating my roommate for a while, but they just broke up a few days ago. I think he's studying engineering or something and he's, like, really into computers. Weird." She shook her head. "I mean, it's not like he's a geek or anything. He's really cute."

Jim fought the urge to rub his forehead as he felt his head start to pound. "Can you tell me what your roommate's name is? And why they broke up? And how did he handle it?"

"Ooooh, not well at all. He's got a temper - that's, like, why Daphne broke it off. Daphne Beaumont."

The first name sent a cold wave through Jim. "Does your roommate, by any chance, work as an assistant for Blair Sandburg?"

"Oh, yeah. She works for him - what a dream! She is, like, so lucky! Of course, that's one of the reasons she and Brian fought a lot. I think he was jealous."

"Where can we find your roommate right now? We may want to ask her more questions."

"She's in there," Julie said, pointing at the library. "She told me she was meeting Blair here today."

Jim almost groaned. "Thank you for the information. Would you please stay here - in case we need any more information?"

"Sure. I can't leave anyway - Daphne has the car keys."

Jim turned and headed back to where Simon was talking to the SWAT captain and Suzanne Tomacki. "It doesn't look good, Sir. The shooter's name is Brian Walters. It sounds like he has a bad temper and is jealous over his girlfriend working for Sandburg. He's also into computers so he may know how to handle the security system in there."

"I'll get his school records," Suzanne offered. "It shouldn't take long." She hurried away.

"Simon, I'd like to try something, but I need you to make sure I don't zone out. Sandburg and I have been working on this for a while..." Jim's mind cast back to the first time Blair had asked him to try this.

One year earlier.

"C'mon, Jim," Blair said, as he pulled the detective away from the police station. "I want to try something. Your hearing is so much better now that you don't have impacted wax in your ears. I want you to try to locate four people in the station - Simon, Rafe, Brown and Joel."

"You've got to be kidding, Chief," Jim replied in disbelief. "How am I supposed to do that from a block away?"

"Just concentrate. Search for their voices first. You can do this, man."

Jim tried to follow instructions. Slowly, he raised the dial related to hearing. A moment later, a cacophony of sound assaulted him. He sighed and turned the dial back down. "There's too many voices, Chief."

"I didn't say it would be easy," Blair said, exasperation filling his voice. "Try again. Filter out the other voices until you find the ones you want. You know what these guys sound like."

Jim concentrated again. One by one, he filtered out the other voices, following his Guide's instructions. "I can hear Rafe and Brown," he finally said, a look of amazement filling his face.

"Where are they at?"

Jim turned his head a little to the left as he zeroed in on the voices. "I think they're on the second floor - maybe in the evidence locker."

"That's great, man," Blair said, almost jumping with joy. "That's exactly where they were headed before I brought you out here. Now, find Joel and Simon."

Jim continued his search. He found Joel next. "Joel is in the break room, arguing with himself over which candy bar to buy from the vending machine." He concentrated for a while before admitting defeat. "I can't find Simon. He isn't saying anything."

"Then turn up the hearing some more. Listen for his heartbeat. You told me everyone's was slightly different."

Jim was doubtful, but he tried anyway. "I found him!" he crowed after several long minutes. "He's... AAARGH!" Jim screamed, bending over and covering his ears as they were assaulted by noise.

"Hey! Are you okay, man?" Blair asked, anxiously. "What happened?"

Jim slowly straightened, glaring at the younger man. "Simon flushed the toilet," he ground out.

"Oh, man, I'm sorry. I didn't know..." Blair started retreated slowly.

"You owe me, Sandburg," Jim growled as he kept pace with the other man.

"No problem, Jim," Blair replied, nervously. "Just name it."

Jim thought about it for a moment before an evil smile crossed his face. "Lunch at Wonderburger - your treat."

"Ah, c'mon, Jim. That place will kill you. How about the new tofu bar on the east side?"

"No. Wonderburger and that's final," Jim said, pulling his still-protesting friend to his truck.

Jim reluctantly pulled himself back to the present. "I'm going to try to find out where Sandburg is just by listening," he explained to Simon. "Knowing him, he's probably talking a mile a minute."

"You can do that?" Simon asked. "Find someone in a building by listening for him?"

"I think so." Jim moved over to his truck, using it to shelter him from prying eyes, sensing rather than seeing Simon following him. The Sentinel's concentration was already on the building. Slowly, he scanned the library, hearing many noises and filtering them out. The sound of someone crying softly, the gurgling sound of someone trying to breathe with fluid in their lungs, but no Blair.

Jim cranked up the volume. It took a while to filter out the mechanical hum of all the electrical equipment, but soon he was hearing heartbeats. He searched for the one that was more familiar than his own.

He got to the top of the building and started back down, listening even harder this time. He listened as the sounds of the heartbeats started pounding away...

"Jim! JIM! Snap out of it!"

The sound of Simon's voice broke his concentration with a suddenness that was almost shocking. "I can't hear him," Jim murmured, pain filling his voice. "I can't hear him!"

"Take it easy, Jim," Simon said, laying a calming hand on the detective's shoulder. "It just means he's being quiet for a change."

Jim shook his head, fighting the despair that seemed to fill his very soul. "I can't even hear his heartbeat! I should be able to do that! I can hear other people's but not Sandburg's! Simon, I think he might be..." Jim couldn't force the last word out.

"NO! I refuse to believe that, Jim," Simon protested. "There could be a lot of different reasons why you can't hear him. Maybe, there's just too many walls between him and us. Until we get evidence to the contrary, he's still alive. Do you hear me?"

Jim took a deep breath before shaking his head. "You're right, Simon. I'm sure Sandburg will be able to come up with a valid reason for this. He always seems to figure it out."

"That's right. Sandburg will know why you couldn't hear him. Now, let's concentrate on getting him out here so he can talk us to death with his theories," Simon ordered.

* SENT * SENT

It hadn't taken long for Suzanne to return with Walters' transcript. The student had taken a lot of computer courses as well as engineering. He'd also listed Albright Security - the same company who had been contracted to install the system at the library - as a place of employment. A quick call to the company had led to the information that Walters had worked with the programmers on the security system, but had been recently fired due to 'attitude problems'. They had promised to send someone out right away to assist them.

An hour later, Jim was ready to storm the building. Walters wasn't answering the phone - he just seemed determined to hole up in the library. The detective had tried to use his hyperactive hearing again to see if he could find out what was happening, but this time he hadn't been able to concentrate. All the noises in the building had seemed to merge into a loud torrent of sound.

A surge of hope washed through him as he spotted a van with the lettering 'Albright Security Company' painted on its side. They'd been waiting for the company to show up to get around the security system. Once the van was parked, a man climbed out of the van and came over to talk to Simon and Jim.

"Captain Banks?" he asked in a bored tone. "I'm Jeff Beaudine. I don't understand why you needed our assistance. The university security department has the access codes to override the system. Maybe you should have checked with them first."

Simon drew himself up to his full height, looming over the much smaller security man. "For your information, we *did* talk to security. *Your* override codes failed to work. Now, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, we need to get inside this building." His sarcastic tone caused Beaudine to flinch slightly.

"I don't understand," Beaudine said. "They should have worked." He went back to the van and retrieved a notebook.

Jim escorted Beaudine over to the security access panel, keeping an eye on the door to make sure Walters wasn't lurking nearby, ready to start shooting again. The security man flipped through the notebook, found the page he was looking for, and pressed the numbered buttons on the panel - too quickly for Jim to follow the code. The flashing red light stayed illuminated.

"This can't be right," Beaudine muttered. He punched the buttons again, but the red light still stayed on. Next, he pulled out a small plastic card - about the size of a credit card - and swiped it through a slot on the panel. Nothing happened.

"Why isn't it working?" Jim asked.

"I don't know," Beaudine replied. "The key card is supposed to override all security, but nothing's happening."

"Could someone change the security system from inside the library?"

"I suppose they could, if they knew what they were doing."

"Our shooter worked at your company until he was recently fired. It's quite possible he knows exactly what he's doing. Is there anyway to get into the system from out here and override his overrides?" Jim asked.

Beaudine thought about it for a few moments. "Yes. I think I can do that, but it's going to take some time."

"Then let's get started. Is there anything we can provide to help you speed things up?"

"I have all the equipment that I need, but I could use some help getting set up."

In about thirty minutes, with Jim, Brown and Rafe's assistance, wiring ran from the security panel to the van which was filled with various pieces of equipment. Beaudine sat down behind a computer terminal and started typing away frantically.

Jim paced around outside the van, wanting to yell at the man to hurry. All he could think about was Blair being inside that building, possibly hurt, possibly dead. He didn't want to think about that last option, but he knew the worst might have happened. The detective wasn't sure if he could handle losing him - and not just for Blair's assistance with his Sentinel abilities. He was closer to Blair than he was his own brother.

"I've got something!" Beaudine yelled from the van.

Jim got there first, with Simon a close second. Behind them came Joel, Brown and Rafe. The last three had to stand by the door of the van since there wasn't enough room inside.

"I've managed to tap into the system far enough to activate the security cameras." Beaudine pointed to a monitor where images started to appear.

Jim paid close attention, enhancing his vision to take in as much of each picture as he could before it jumped to the next one. "Hold it!" he yelled, reaching out to clutch Beaudine's shoulder. "Can you back it up and hold it when I tell you to?"

"Sure," Beaudine replied. "Say when."

"There! Stop!" The image on the screen showed an almost empty hallway. In the foreground, a partially opened door revealed a person lying on the floor. Not much was visible except for the back of the head - a head filled with long dark curls. A small pool of blood was visible around the head, indicating the seriousness of the wounds. One arm stretched out, the hand disappearing under a nearby backpack.

A backpack that Jim recognized.

Two months earlier

Jim had just finished dressing when he heard Blair yell up the stairway.

"Hey, Jim, have you seen my backpack?"

Jim walked over and leaned up against the loft railing. "Where did you leave it last night?" he asked, trying to hide the smile on his face.

"I could have sworn I left it on the kitchen table," Blair replied, turning back to the kitchen as if to check again.

"And is that where it belongs?" Jim didn't bother waiting for a confirmation as he continued, "What did I tell you the last time you left it on the table?"

Blair paused as he thought about it. Suddenly, he looked up to the loft. "Aw, Jim... Tell me you didn't! Oh, man, this is so petty of you!"

"I warned you," Jim replied as he turned away from the railing.

"Hey, at least tell me which garbage bin you threw it in," Blair said. "Maybe I can still salvage it. I can't believe you threw my backpack away! What am I supposed to do... What's that?" he asked as Jim came down the stairs carrying a brightly wrapped gift.

"Happy birthday, Blair," Jim said, handing over the box.

"Oh, wow! Thanks, Jim." Blair wasted no time ripping the paper away from the large box. He pried open the box and stood there staring down at the contents in shock.

"What's wrong?" Jim asked, afraid he'd messed up. "Don't you like it?"

"Oh, man! This is, like, so cool!" Blair pulled the backpack out. "These are the hottest backpacks on campus. Everyone wants one, but they're so hard to find, it's just not funny. How did you manage?"

Jim shrugged, pleased that his gift idea had been right. "I have my sources," he replied, grinning broadly. "Dinner's on me, tonight. Where would you like to go?"

Present.

They'd never made it to the restaurant that night. On the way there, Jim had been summoned to a murder scene. Instead of a gourmet meal, they'd eaten carry-out Chinese when they got back to the station. Jim had promised to make it up to Blair, but he realized, now, he'd never gotten around to it. When this was all over, he'd take his roommate to the nicest restaurant he could find.

Simon's voice brought his attention back to the screen. "Is that Sandburg?" he asked. "I can't tell."

Jim nodded. "I think so. And it looks like he's pretty badly injured."

"Can you tell if he's still alive?" Simon asked quietly, throwing a look at the security man to see if he was paying attention.

Reluctantly, Jim shook his head. "I can't tell. Can you get sound on this thing?" he asked Beaudine.

"Sorry. Picture only - and black and white at that. I can't believe people would spend so much money on a security system then buy the cheapest cameras they can find."

"Jim, look!" Simon almost yelled, grabbing the Sentinel's arm and pointing at the screen. "I just saw him move!"

Jim stared into the screen, focusing intently. A moment later, he was rewarded with a slight movement of Blair's head. "He's alive!" Jim exchanged a brief, relieved look with Simon. He could hear the other detectives outside the van passing the news along.

"Can you get us inside?" Simon asked Beaudine.

"Not yet. It's going to take some time. This isn't as simple as pulling the trigger on a gun, you know. It takes some brains!"

For a moment, Jim was afraid Simon was about to have a stroke as the captain struggled not to lose his temper.

"Just get us in there as soon as possible," Simon finally ground out. "And show us the rest of the camera angles."

Once again the monitor started jumping from one scene to another. Some scenes showed empty rooms. Others showed more people lying on the floor. Some were obviously dead, others were obviously alive.

Suddenly, a blank screen appeared. "Oops. Looks like we have a malfunctioning camera here," Beaudine said, as he typed something on the keyboard. "Yep, I'm not getting a signal back from one of the cameras on the sixth floor."

"Can you give us a more precise location?" Simon asked, before turning to the detectives waiting outside the van. "Joel, bring the floor plans here - the top floor."

After a little bit of studying, they pinpointed the camera location. It was in the main security room. From there, Walters would be able to monitor all of the cameras as well as be notified if they tried to break into the building.

"He's got to be there," Jim said, frustration echoing through his words, "and there's no way to know how many hostages he has with him. If we try to storm the building, he could kill more people."

Simon pulled Jim aside. "Maybe you can try that hearing thing again. That might give us an idea what we're facing."

"I'm willing to give it a try," Jim replied. "Let's go."

Jim and Simon climbed out of the van and headed away from the rest of the detectives. Knowing his captain would keep an eye on him, the Sentinel concentrated on the building. He enhanced his hearing, trying to isolate the area where the malfunctioning camera had been. He struggled to remain focused, but he couldn't stop his attention from wandering. He wanted to hear Blair - wanted confirmation that he was still alive.

Finally, Jim shook his head, guilt flooding through him. "I can't tell anything, Simon. I don't know if Walters is there with hostages. I just can't concentrate. I'm sorry."

"Don't blame yourself, Jim. I know you're doing the best you can. We're both worried about Sandburg. As for Walters, we'll just have to do this the old-fashioned way."

Simon's words only increased Jim's guilt. He was supposed to be a Sentinel, but what good was having enhanced senses if they failed him at the most crucial time? "I should have been able to do this," the detective muttered.

"Stop it, Jim! Now, let's go see if Beaudine has managed to deactivate the security system."

The security man was still typing. "No, I haven't managed to find out how he sabotaged the program yet. Give me some time!"

"Listen, Beaudine," Simon growled, "there are injured people in there! If we don't get in soon, they could die! Give me some options here."

"I need more time!" Beaudine almost yelled. "Leave me alone and let me get back to work."

Simon motioned to Jim and they climbed out of the truck and went over to talk to the rest of the detectives.

"So far, we haven't been able to get past the security," Simon explained. "Joel, can we cut or blast through those doors?"

"If Walters is monitoring the cameras, won't he spot us trying to do that?" Jim asked. "He might start killing hostages."

"I don't see that we have any other options. It's been over two hours already. There are people in there dying - we may have to risk it. Otherwise, we could be here for a very long time and still not pry him out of there."

"I'll get on it," Joel replied, before hurrying away.

"Rafe, I want you to contact the area hospitals and tell them to be ready. We don't know how many casualties there will be. Get as many ambulances here as you can and as soon as possible," Simon continued passing out orders. "Brown, make sure everyone has their vests on and tell them to stand by."

Jim and Simon went over to talk to the head of the SWAT team to lay out their assault plans. After much discussion, it was decided that there would be six teams - one for each floor. Simon assigned Jim to lead the sixth floor team. Rafe, Brown and Joel would lead other teams with two members of the SWAT team leading the rest. Simon would coordinate the team movements from outside.

Jim protested his assignment almost immediately.

"I need you there, Jim," Simon said. "You have the best chance of rescuing the hostages."

"But I have to find Sandburg," Jim protested.

"Jim, I know how you feel," Simon replied, "but we have to think of the other hostages, too. The sooner we isolate Walters, the faster we can get to Sandburg and the rest of the injured."

"Yes, Sir," Jim said, knowing Simon was right. It didn't help.

When the rest of the detectives returned, Simon laid out his plan. Each of the team leaders met with the officers assigned to them - four to each team - and passed along the information. They also handed out pictures of Walters that Suzanne Tomacki had provided from the school's records.

Just before they were ready to go, Beaudine popped out of the van and yelled for Simon. Jim followed along.

"I've gotten into the system," Beaudine announced, a smug look on his face. "Your shooter won't be able to see you coming."

"Good! Jim, let's get this started," Simon said.

Without another word, the teams moved into position. The first to go into the building was Jim's team, since they had the furthest to go. Stealthily, he led the team up the stairs, extending his hearing to see if he could find anything out.

At the second floor landing, Jim heard the unmistakable sound of someone trying to breathe through punctured lungs. The heartbeat was hardly noticeable, so slow it barely could be heard. For a moment, Jim was tempted to rush in, knowing it had to be Blair. Even as he listened, the breathing stopped and a brief moment later, so did the heartbeat.

They were too late! A rush of anger filled Jim and all he could think of was to get revenge for Blair. He would make Walters pay for killing his best friend!

Moving again, Jim led the way up the stairs. He reported back to Simon when they were in place and waited impatiently for the go-ahead. It came less than a minute later. Signaling to his team, Jim led the way through the door.

Moving quickly but quietly, the team proceeded through the building. Each man knew the drill, checking every door they went by. Whenever a body was found - dead or alive - it was reported back to Simon. There weren't many at this level. Finally, they arrived at a door labeled 'Security'.

Jim listened for a moment, trying to place where Walters would be. There was no indication of anyone in the room. Signaling his team, he crashed through the door, gun at the ready.

The sight that greeted his eyes was almost too much for the detective. Two bodies were on the floor - both very dead. The first wore a uniform with the word 'Security' on his nametag. He had three bullet wounds in his chest and his eyes stared blindly at the ceiling. The other man looked like he'd been blown apart by a grenade. There was just enough of his face left to identify him as Walters.

"He's dead," Jim reported back to Simon. "It looks like the bastard either accidentally or deliberately blew himself up." He felt cheated. He'd wanted to take apart Walters with his own bare hands.

Dimly, Jim heard Simon pass along the information to the other teams. He told his team to finish checking the floor and then start providing aid to any victims still alive.

"Simon, I'm going down to the second floor," Jim announced. "Sandburg was down there."

"Was?" Simon's deep voice echoed over the radio.

"Yes. I heard him die." Jim headed for the stairs, and slowly walked down them, feeling numb. His worst nightmare had come true. Except Blair hadn't died because of his association with the police department. He'd died because he'd been in the wrong place, at the wrong time. He'd died because he was trying to find out more information about Sentinels so he could help Jim.

It was all his fault.

Jim emerged onto the second floor. He could immediately see the body lying partway into the hall. He slowly approached his friend, knelt down beside him and then turned the body over. A stranger's face stared up at him! Jim closed his eyes for a moment, then reopened them. The vision didn't change. It hadn't been Blair after all!

He checked the backpack. Same brand as the one he'd bought, but a different color. Then he remembered Blair saying they were the hottest thing on campus. How foolish of him to think Blair had the only one!

"Simon!" Jim yelled into his microphone. "It's not Blair! He might still be alive!"

"Thank God!" Simon replied. "Start looking for him. I'll pass the word along to the rest of the teams to keep an eye out for him."

Jim stood up and, moving much faster this time, started searching.

* SENT * SENT

Simon looked around at the bustling scene. Already, six victims had been brought out and were being readied for the trip to the hospital. It was a coordination nightmare trying to keep track of where all the wounded were in the building, but he was on top of it.

"Hey, Simon, what's happening?" a voice chirped next to him.

Simon glanced over quickly to the man standing next to him before returning his eyes to his notes. "Not now, Sandburg, I'm bus..." It finally sank in. "Sandburg! What are you doing here?"

"This is the university, Simon. I work here," Blair explained with a grin. "Why are you here?"

Simon didn't reply. He turned on his microphone instead. "Jim, I think you'd better get out here on the double," he said.

"What's wrong, Sir? I haven't found Sandburg yet. I'm only on the fourth floor."

"Well, if you want Sandburg to continue living, you'd better get out here and keep me from killing him!" Simon glared at the smaller man as he shut off the microphone. "How come you're not in the library?" he asked before holding up his hand to stall the answer. "No, you'd better wait for Jim to get here."

Blair looked mystified. He looked at the library and seemed to realize that something bad had happened. "Wow! What happened here?"

"Just your everyday, run-of-the-mill nutcase," Simon explained. "A man named Brian Walters decided to shoot the place up."

Just then, Jim emerged from the library, dodging around the constant stream of people going in and out. He almost ran over to where Simon and Blair were standing.

"Chief? Are you okay?" he asked, slightly out of breath.

"I'm fine," Blair replied. "Simon was just telling me what happened. Man, I'm glad I wasn't in the library."

"What!" Jim almost yelled. "You mean we just spent hours worrying about you and you weren't even there?"

"Hey, man, I'm sorry," Blair said, holding up his hands. "You should be grateful I wasn't in there, not mad at me about it."

"We are grateful," Simon replied, having calmed down a little. "But where were you?"

"Well, you see, it was the coolest thing. There I was hurrying because I was late and I crashed into this guy and knocked him over. Turns out he was Martin Krebs - the guy who donated all his books. Well, he was a little shaken up, so I helped him to his limo and we got to talking. Next thing I know, he's offering to show me his library. Oh, man, he's got walls and walls of books. It's unbelievable! And he said I could come back anytime. I can't believe my luck!"

"Neither can I," Jim said, grinning at his roommate. "A major nutcase on the loose and somehow you managed to avoid him. Maybe your luck has changed after all," he teased.

"Hey, I'm not that bad," Blair protested.

Simon and Jim exchanged glances before bursting into laughter. "You're a trouble magnet, Sandburg," Simon replied. "Now, gentlemen, we need to get back to work. And, Sandburg, I think you should sit this one out."

Epilogue.

Later that night.

Jim unlocked the door of his apartment, glad to be home. He was glad Blair hadn't been needed there and had been able to go home much earlier. The younger man wouldn't have been able to handle it at all. Even with Jim's years of experience, it hadn't been easy to remain detached.

Jim spotted Blair on the sofa, busy typing on his laptop. He went to the kitchen to get a beer before joining him there.

"Hey, Jim," Blair greeted him, removing his glasses and rubbing at his nose. "How bad was it?"

"Twelve dead, and twenty injured - two critically."

"Oh, man! Does anyone know why he did it?" Blair asked.

Jim sighed. "We may never know. Between breaking up with his girlfriend and losing his job, he might have just snapped. His girlfriend was among the dead and the guns we confiscated were stolen in a robbery I was investigating. All I know is he saved the taxpayers a lot of money by killing himself."

Blair shook his head. "It's sad. This guy went to all this effort and no one will ever know why."

"I'm just glad you weren't one of those bodies, Chief. When I couldn't hear you in the building... well... I didn't know what to think."

"Jim, you've got to trust your senses," Blair replied. "You should have known I wasn't in there."

"It also could have meant you were already dead," Jim said, taking a large swallow of his beer as he remembered his panic.

"Oh. I guess I didn't think about that. Man, that must have been rough on you."

Jim grimaced. "That's an understatement, Chief. I don't want to have to go through that again. Maybe I should keep you on a leash so I always know where you are," he suggested with a straight face. "You know - like one of those with the retracting line. Whenever you got too far away, I'd just reel you back in."

"Too impractical," Blair responded with a grin. "Just think how tangled up I could manage to get us."

Jim shuddered. "You're probably right. I suppose you have a better idea?"

"Well, we could work on your sense of smell - see if you could figure out if I was in a building just by smelling me." Blair turned hopeful eyes to Jim. "I could set up some tests..."

"Don't even think about it," Jim warned. "I'm not going to stand around outside a building sniffing the air like a bloodhound. Not in this lifetime."

"But, Jim... Think of the possibilities..."

The end.


End file.
